His Pretty Toy by Shanna Handel

Chapter 14

Six months later…

I’m making a lavender honey latte. It’s new. My own creation. The suburban moms love it. And I love them. They tip my staff generously and they’ve always got a kind word and a thank you for us.

I’ve started an open mic night on Wednesdays. It’s growing. We had to add tables to the sidewalk, propping the door open to accommodate more visitors. The music pours out into the night, sometimes people even dance in the streets.

Tuesdays I hold a class for kids. They learn the color wheel, how to mix paints to get the shade they want. I give them hot chocolate with free refills on whipped cream and sprinkles. The moms don’t mind because it gives them time for some much needed chatting with their friends. When Charlotte’s old enough to come, I’ll bring her here for class and give her extra sprinkles.

I noticed teens like to hang out here on Friday and Saturday nights. The old manager tried to run them off, saying they didn’t spend enough money for the space they were taking up. Me? I embrace their presence.

I know firsthand how important it is to keep teens out of trouble.

I welcome them in, telling them the more the merrier. I’ve made a deal with a couple of local food trucks, one that sells the best dollar taco you’ve ever had, another that does massive slices of greasy pizza. I figure it’s food within their budget and food I loved as a teen.

My only request is that the vendors don’t sell drinks. We’ve got that covered. I’ve even added a delicious decaf iced coffee to our night menu that tastes like a chocolate milkshake. The trucks give us ten percent of their profits. They’re raking it in and our weekend drink sales have gone up twenty percent.

We’re making so much money, three months ago the owner gave me a raise. Yesterday, he offered me another one.

He says I’m a gem, a real unicorn. He says there’s not many people my age willing to take on so much responsibility. He has no idea how much responsibility I have on my young shoulders.

Trent’s money is gone, but with my new salary, I have more than enough to pay all our bills. I stay in the city, it’s just closer to work and I work odd hours, but I spend my time off helping Mom with the kids. I take Charlotte out to do the things my mom can’t.

We go ice skating, circling around the rink as best we can on our wobbly skates. We go to the trampoline park and I jump as high as I can, bouncing her to the moon. I even take her bowling. We keep the bumpers up and order fries in between games.

A few times when I’ve been out, a man will try to start up a conversation with me, figuring I’m the nanny. Every time this happens, my stomach does a flip-flop and I feel a little sick. I’m always polite, but I end the conversation as quickly as I can.

I’m either working or helping.

It’s funny. Before… him… I didn’t mind so much. I didn’t dwell on what I was missing out on. Now? I know what I’m missing and it’s left a hole in my heart in the shape of an asshole billionaire who I can’t seem to stop thinking about.

I stay as busy as possible but it’s not for the money; that’s just an unexpected bonus. I stay busy to forget.

And every night, I cry myself to sleep.

“Here you go. One lavender honey latte. Enjoy.” I hand the customer the cup and she thanks me with a smile.

I have a hard time smiling back.

My assistant manager, Trina, comes to my side. She’s got great style—today she’s pinned tiny shimmery blue butterflies into her afro. I’ve just promoted her and she’s doing a fantastic job keeping us organized. She taps the clipboard she holds in her hand with the end of her pen. “I have that contract you need to sign. The one for the parks department to do the coffee and yoga hour in the parking lot?”

The pen is a black ballpoint. A simple pen, but the very same I signed my last contract with. I feel as if I’m going to pass out. My voice cracks as I take the clipboard from her. “Thanks.”

I read every word before signing. I hand it back to her.

She gives me a funny look. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I give a little shiver. “Just felt a little lightheaded for a sec.”

The little bell at the top of the door dings, signaling a new arrival.

I look up. I always look up, hoping it’s him. I know it’s pathetic, but I’m a bad liar. I can’t even lie to myself. I always want it to be him.

There’s a girl standing in the doorway, like she’s unsure if she wants to come in. Her hair is bleached blonde but it’s a bad home job and there are streaks of orange. She’s thin, rail thin, and I wonder if she’s come to ask for day-old pastries. The homeless do that from time to time and I always happily oblige, bagging them up and throwing in some extras, too.

Her clothes look dirty and they hang from her frame. She looks up, and our eyes meet.

“Holly?” It can’t be her, can it? I rush from the counter, approaching the girl. She shrinks back, like I’m going to hurt her. “Holly, is that you?”

This creature can’t be my wicked sexy sister with curves for miles and dark hair flowing down her back. But when she speaks, I know it’s her. “Ashe.”

She wraps her bony arms around me, holding me tight to her. She smells musty, her hair dry and brittle against my face. But it’s her.

I hug her tight. “Oh, my god, Holly. It’s really you.” I hold her at arm’s length, looking her up and down. She’s in bad shape, but nothing too crazy. “Where’s Derik?”

“I have so much to tell you.” She looks away, her face awash with emotion.

“What? What is it?” A thousand more questions come to my mind but I hold them back.

“I’m in serious danger.” She grabs my hand. “And so are you.”